


I Know

by Writing-The-Impractical-Jokers (writingfanfic)



Category: Impractical Jokers
Genre: Can't stop making that joke, Dr Quinn - Freeform, F/M, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-14
Updated: 2017-09-14
Packaged: 2018-12-29 21:43:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12094038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingfanfic/pseuds/Writing-The-Impractical-Jokers
Summary: For the prompt: 'hey can i request a cute fluffy Q fic? something like reader is sick and q helps take care of her. thanks steph!'Can do! Dr. Quinn, Medicine… Man, is in the house.





	I Know

“You know, the cats are getting jealous.”

You look up, cheeks flushed and eyes bleary, and Q sits down next to you on the bed, before his heavy hand rests against your forehead.

“You feel like… a temperature. I don’t know, man, Sal’s got a thermometer, he’ll swing by later.” You smile weakly, and he puts the plate next to your head. “You sure you wanna eat this?”

“Please.” Your voice is weak and cracked, and you can see it bothers him a little just to hear it; he bends down and kisses your forehead, and you smile. “You’re soppy.”

“Don’t die in my house,” he says seriously. “I don’t even know where to put your body. Seriously.” You cough, duvet covering your mouth, and he bites the inside of his cheek. “For real… do you want me to call an ambulance? Do you have insurance?” You roll your eyes.

“Couldn’t you drive me?”

“What, and get plague in my car?” he sighs, and you snuggle further down into the covers. “Okay, so… I took the day off, hence Sal coming along later. Now, I’m gonna teach you never to get sick near me again, ‘cause we are gonna watch the  _entire_ Hobbit movie series, followed by Lord of the Rings if you’re still sick tomorrow.” You groan, and he beams at you, before kissing your cheek; his stubble scratches you, and you sigh happily. “Don’t breathe on me. I mean it, if you give me the bubonic plague? You’re sleeping on the couch.”

“You don’t mean that.” You snuggle up to him, and peck his cheek. “Plus if you’re sick, you’ll have to stay with me.”

“What, and be too ill to fuck? No. Way.” You roll your eyes. “Don’t you call me unromantic. You knew what you were gettin’ into.” You kiss his cheek again, and he kisses you. “Goddamn it. Now I’m gonna be ill for sure.”

The door pushes open, and Brooklyn pads her way in – she leaps up onto your legs, and then up onto Q to investigate – she sees the plate, and you wheeze as she steps on your chest to take a look.

“No! Baby, you get the hell down, you little shit, come on…”

“You love your cats more than me,” you grin wickedly as he sits up, lifting the cat up, and he kisses her head, placing her on the floor.

“(Y/N), you’re damn right I do, but you come second, and really, that’s not so bad. Like… you come higher than some other stuff. Beer. Pizza. Wait. You come third… wait, no. Joint second.” He kisses you, and you smile. “I’m joking. You’re second only to the cats. Promise.”

“I love you too,” you sigh, and nuzzle up to him again. “Can’t we binge watch Star Wars instead?”

“…you’re trying to move up the rankings, you goddamn  _creep_.” He kisses your head and stands up, and you cough again. “Okay. I, your faithful boyfriend, will get you something to drink. Eat the goddamn food I brought you, then we’ll put on Star Wars.”

“I love you,” you repeat, and get a grin as he leaves.

“I know!”


End file.
